I was a blank slate awaiting color
a silhouette waiting patiently to fill out
I know it makes you sad
it makes me sad too
Neither you or I have seen me
in so long
Perhaps the entirety of my being
is some poorly thrown together
assortment of
fragments of my former self
I can only hope
it fits together
in some way
Maybe someday
I'll form your new favorite shape
Emptiness is just room to grow
We could be
picture perfect in a fractured frame.